


It Sings To Me

by realityisoverrated



Series: Infinite Love [84]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Smoaking billionaires, Toliver, flommy, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisoverrated/pseuds/realityisoverrated
Summary: Tommy surprises Oliver with a request and it brings up a painful memory that they share with Felicity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story depicts a polyamorous relationship between one woman and two men. If this is not something you are interested in, please stop and go no further.
> 
> I wrote the flashback contained within this story about eight months, but was not sure where and when I should post it in their timeline. The events of this fic have been referenced in three installments and I decided it was time to post it. 
> 
> Happy Birthday, olicitynick. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support of this series. Your comments and kudos help feed the muse. 
> 
> I'm not telling this series in chronological order. Some readers have requested that I provide a chronological order for the fics in the series. There is no need to read them in chronological order, but in case you'd like to, the list is below. This installment is 35/84. (There is a known issue at AO3. If viewing the stories from the series page, the story numbers aren't always correct. The story number when you open the individual stories is correct).  
> 1\. Beautiful Stranger (Part 28)  
> 2\. The Hack of the Golden Dragon (Part 36)  
> 3\. Girl Wednesday (Part 41)  
> 4\. This Time Last Year (Part 44)  
> 5\. The First Time (Part 1)  
> 6\. Aloe and Chamomile (Part 40)  
> 7\. The Italian Restaurant (Part 3)  
> 8\. Ground Rules (Part 43)  
> 9\. Do The Hustle (Part 21)  
> 10\. The Secret Ingredient (Part 65)  
> 11\. Wherever You Are, There I Am (Part 8)  
> 12\. Perfect (Part 16)  
> 13\. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (Part 49)  
> 14\. Practical Jokes and Other Misunderstandings (Part 14)  
> 15\. Cobble Hill (Part 4)  
> 16\. The Sunnybrook (Part 51)  
> 17\. House Warming (Part 15)  
> 18\. 30 (Part 30)  
> 19\. Hong Kong (Part 35)  
> 20\. Twenty Questions Over Brunch (Part 11)  
> 21\. Hildy (Part 5)  
> 22\. Burgers & Lies (Part 9)  
> 23\. You Say You Want A Revolution (Part 22)  
> 24\. Unexpected Gifts (Part 70)  
> 25\. Look Me In The Eye And Make Me Feel The Truth (Part 12)  
> 26\. Fight Night (Part 20)  
> 27\. Fear and Loathing (Part 42)  
> 28\. With The Band (Part 53)  
> 29\. The Scarecrow (Part 59)  
> 30\. An Island Of His Own Making (Part 74)  
> 31\. Pas de Deux (Part 75)  
> 32\. Take It Back (Part 76)  
> 33\. Into Thin Air (Part 17)  
> 34\. Haunted (Part 58)  
> 35\. It Sings To Me (Part 84)  
> 36\. It’s Just Like Falling (Part 27)  
> 37\. Will You Still Love Me, Tomorrow? (Part 7)  
> 38\. Life With The Arrow (Part 23)  
> 39\. Up All Night (Part 6)  
> 40\. Welcome Home (Part 10)  
> 41\. Deadshot (Part 62)  
> 42\. Better Than Chocolate Chip Banana Pancakes (Part 24)  
> 43\. The Right To Remain Silent (Part 61)  
> 44\. Home Is Where You Are (Part 2)  
> 45\. Somebody Get A Hammer (Part 26)  
> 46\. Tush Push (Part 48)  
> 47\. Elves (Part 68)  
> 48\. Three (Part 13)  
> 49\. Life Lived In The Tabloids (Part 18)  
> 50\. Tokyo Calling (Part 25)  
> 51\. Something Blue (Part 39)  
> 52\. I Do. I Do. I Do. (Part 82)  
> 53\. Prudence Chastity (Part 19)  
> 54\. Love Is Worth It In The End (Part 33)  
> 55\. The Mini (Part 38)  
> 56\. The Hall of Fame (Part 46)  
> 57\. A Name By Any Other (Part 47)  
> 58\. The Drop Out (Part 32)  
> 59\. Homework (Part 64)  
> 60\. Count Your Blessings (Part 71)  
> 61\. William (Part 29)  
> 62\. Hold On For One More Day (Part 31)  
> 63\. I Have No Gifts To Bring (Part 72)  
> 64\. Yours, Mine, Ours (Part 37)  
> 65\. Rules Are Made To Be Broken (Part 55)  
> 66\. The Forty-Year-Old Graduate (Part 78)  
> 67\. Take Me Out To The Ballgame (Part 83)  
> 68\. Hope Is Believing In The Light When All You See Is Darkness (Part 52)  
> 69\. Emma (Part 77)  
> 70\. Open Up And Say Ah (Part 60)  
> 71\. Tommy Merlyn’s No Good, Very Bad, Terrible Day (Part 81)  
> 72\. Saturdays With The Green Arrow (Part 34)  
> 73\. I Would Not Trade What Might Have Been For What Is (Part 50)  
> 74\. Brothers (Part 45)  
> 75\. Hallelujah (Part 69)  
> 76\. The Green Arrow Did It (Part 73)  
> 77\. Strawberry Milkshake With A Side Of Why (Part 56)  
> 78\. All About The Jeans (Part 54)  
> 79\. A Bunny For Prue (Part 63)  
> 80\. Day 107 (Part 67)  
> 81\. Boys Who Kiss Boys Who Kiss Girls Who Kiss Boys Who Kiss Boys (Part 57)  
> 82\. Scars (Part 79)  
> 83\. Tummy Aches and Heart Aches (Part 66)  
> 84\. Gut Punch (Part 80)
> 
> Welcome to any new readers who have stumbled into this universe. The more the merrier.
> 
> Arrow and its characters do not belong to me.

>

Artwork by Lademonessa

 

Tommy had been on edge from the moment Oliver walked in the door. Oliver had been greeted with a tight smile and an abrupt kiss. Even as they prepared dinner, Tommy remained quiet. Felicity filled the silence with details of a case Barry was working on, but she kept shooting worried looks at Tommy every time his back was turned. Tommy was clearly stuck in his head over something and from the way he kept bending and straightening his leg, Oliver knew Tommy was conflicted about whatever he was concerned about. Oliver was resolved to confront Tommy after dinner, if he didn’t come clean about whatever was bothering him first.

Oliver had just opened his napkin in his lap when Tommy blurted out, “My therapist would like you to join my session next week.”

“Me?” Oliver asked even though Tommy directed the statement to him and not to Felicity.

“Yes, she thinks having you there might be helpful,” Tommy stammered.

“Okay,” Oliver picked up the platter of poached salmon and offered it to Felicity.

“Okay?” Tommy asked with complete surprise.

“Yeah, okay.” Oliver stopped with a tong full of salad suspended over his plate, “Unless you want me to say, no.”

“No,” Tommy handed his plate to Felicity for a piece of fish, “I just assumed you wouldn’t come. You refused therapy when you came home.”

“If you want me to come, I’ll come,” Oliver said. He hated the idea of going to see a therapist, but he hated the idea of letting Tommy down more. It had been two weeks since the dedication of the Laurel Lance Legal Services Society and Tommy appeared to be doing better. He’d gone to his doctor and his medication had been adjusted. Tommy was taking his meds and assured them that the fogginess he’d been complaining about had lifted. He’d also increased his therapy sessions from once to twice a week. Tommy was starting to be more like Tommy and less like a haunted shell. The most reassuring thing was that Tommy had returned to eating three meals a day and sleeping through the night. He’d gained five pounds in the past two weeks.

Tommy sighed with relief, “Thank you.”

“I’ll do anything for you, all you need to do is ask,” Oliver promised.

“Did you have a good session today?” Felicity asked cheerfully.

Tommy pushed his fish around on his plate, “It was okay, I guess.”

Oliver waited patiently for Tommy to volunteer more information. Instead of talking, Tommy mushed his salmon with his fork and moved it from side to side on his plate. “Did something happen today that made Dr. Eckles decide she wanted me to join your session?”

Tommy looked nervously at Felicity before returning his eyes to Oliver’s, “We were talking about - sex and – the poem.”

“Ah,” Oliver put his fork down.

“Are you upset?” Tommy asked with concern.

“No, I’m not upset, just surprised. You normally don’t like to talk about, the poem,” Oliver answered.

“What poem?” Felicity inquired as she anxiously looked between the men.

“I wrote Oliver a poem my senior year in high school,” Tommy answered without looking away from Oliver.

“Was it a romantic poem?” Felicity did her terrible wink that involved blinking both eyes with exaggeration.

Oliver cleared his throat, “Yes, it was very romantic. It was a love poem.” Fifteen years after he’d first heard the poem, he still remembered every word. He would often find himself watching the stars and reciting Tommy’s poem to himself as Slade and Shado slept. In his darkest moments and most fevered dreams, he’d heard Tommy whispering it to him. The poem had brought him great comfort even as it filled him with regret and shame. There were so many things Oliver wished he could go back and change, the night Tommy read him the poem was one of them.

“About you,” Felicity said with wonder.

“Yes,” Oliver smiled, “it was.”

“What did it say?” Felicity asked with a smile?

Oliver was about to recite the poem from memory when Tommy removed a piece of paper from his wallet. He unfolded the paper and handed it to Felicity. She took the piece of paper and read the poem, a smile ghosting across her lips the entire time. She looked up at Tommy and smiled, “It’s beautiful. Why don’t you like to talk about it?” She looked to Oliver, “Did you not react well when he gave it to you?”

Oliver shook his head and smiled softly at Tommy, “I told him I loved him.”

The smile vanished from her face when she saw tears of anguish slide down Tommy’s face. She reached for his hand, “Are you okay, babe?”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I took a beautiful thing and fucked it up,” Oliver said with regret.

“No,” Tommy shook his head, “it was just as much my fault.”

Felicity looked between them, “What happened?”

Oliver silently asked Tommy if he wanted Oliver to share their story. Tommy shrugged his shoulders. Oliver folded his hands in his lap, “It was our senior year of high school.”

 

Oliver dropped his bookbag as soon he entered his room. He’d thought that Friday would never come and he was ready to put another week behind him and be one week closer to graduation, even if it was still seven months away. He and Tommy remained under house arrest because of the incident, but they had an evening of video games and movies planned. Thea had a birthday sleepover with one of her friends and his parents were attending the opera followed by a late supper. Raisa had the evening off, but she’d made Tommy’s favorite, pot roast with baby carrots and mashed potatoes. He wasn’t even all that disappointed that they weren’t going to get high or drunk. Tommy finally no longer resembled an anorexic scarecrow. Oliver never wanted to see Tommy’s eyes look so haunted or empty again.

“You haven’t changed yet?” Tommy asked from the doorway. He’d already changed out of his school uniform and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He dropped his bookbag in front of Oliver’s desk. “I’m starving.”

Oliver rolled his eyes as he removed his tie and threw it onto his desk chair. He unbuttoned his shirt on the way to his dresser to retrieve sweats and a t-shirt, “I don’t know how anyone eats as much as you do and yet I can still count all of your ribs.”

Tommy moved to stand in front of the dresser and lifted his t-shirt to look at his reflection, “I look better, right?” His fingers trailed across his ribs as if he could still see the bruises from his dad’s last beating.

Oliver blinked his eyes to rid himself of the image of Tommy lying in a hospital bed. He pulled his own shirt off and reached for a clean t-shirt, “Yeah, you look a lot better.”

Tommy lowered his shirt and smoothed it over his stomach, “You think he’ll be back soon?”

“Who cares?” Oliver asked stepping out of his slacks. “Let him come, you’re never going back to that house.”

“If he comes home,” Tommy twisted his t-shirt in between his fingers, “he’ll make me leave.”

Oliver pulled on his sweats and then gently traced his fingers over Tommy’s white knuckles. Tommy smiled sheepishly and released his grip. “He won’t.” Oliver pushed him towards the door, “I thought you were hungry. Talking about your dad ruins my appetite.”

The smile on Tommy’s face widened, “Last one to the kitchen has to bring down the dirty dishes.” Tommy rushed by Oliver and out into the hallway.

“That’s cheating,” Oliver complained as he ran after his best friend.

Two hours later, they were playing video games, the remnants of their dinner all around them. “My leg’s asleep,” Oliver tossed his controller to Tommy and stood up. He hissed when he put his foot down and immediately lifted it up and began to hop around his bedroom.

Tommy turned off the television and stretched out on the floor on his back. He straightened his arms over his head causing his t-shirt to ride up on his stomach. He tilted his head back and watched silently as Oliver hobbled around. “What do you want to watch?”

Oliver’s throat went dry at the view of Tommy’s stomach and the trail of hair that disappeared into his sweats. “Anything you want to watch,” Oliver said with a shrug. He didn’t care what they watched as long as it was something that wouldn’t give Tommy nightmares. Tommy’s affinity for movies from the thirties and forties was starting to rub off on him.

Tommy grinned and Oliver rolled his eyes, “Relax, no Cary Grant. Max burned a copy of the Bourne Identity for me as payment for doing his English paper.”

Max’s dad was a studio executive who divorced his mom for a twenty-year-old Playboy centerfold. He attempted to make up for it by sending his son copies of movies before they were available on DVD. Max’s English paper reminded Oliver of something he’d been wanting to ask about all day, “Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?” he rolled onto his belly and then stood up. He opened his bookbag and pulled out a DVD case. “Do you want to watch up here or downstairs?”

Oliver took the DVD from Tommy and spun it between his fingers, “That poem you read in class today.”

Tommy licked his lips nervously and his fingers twisted in his shirt again, “Yeah?”

“Did you really write that or did you rip it off the internet somewhere?” Oliver put the DVD down and folded his arms across his chest. Oliver had read a poem he’d found on a website. Even if he’d wanted to write something, he wasn’t good with words.

“Why?” Tommy shifted on his feet.

“I thought it was pretty good.” Oliver shrugged, “Deep.”

“I,” Tommy swallowed heavily, “I wrote it.”

“Did you really mean those things?” Oliver asked shyly.

Tommy nodded.

“Was it about Beth Miller?” She was the only blonde blue-eyed girl Tommy had ever cared about. A bitter wave of jealousy rippled through his stomach that he didn’t want to think too hard about. Beth had waited for Tommy after class and he seemed happy to have her talking to him again.

Tommy shook his head.

Oliver bit his bottom lip and waited for Tommy to say something. When he remained silent, Oliver asked, “Are you going to tell me who you were writing about?”

A look of pain flashed across Tommy’s face and he looked away. Very softly he said, “You know.”

Oliver sighed with relief and murmured, “Good.”

Tommy looked at him in shock, “Good?”

“I want to hear it again,” Oliver said. The class had started off snickering, but as Tommy got to the fourth line the class had quieted down. All the girls had leaned on their desks and had listened with rapt attention. They all sighed when he’d finished reading and Oliver was sure that some of them would be lining up to ride the Tommy Merlyn charm train as soon as they were allowed back on the party circuit. Oliver hadn’t been sure at the time, but the more he thought about the poem throughout the day, the more he thought he knew who it was about. He wanted to hear it again to be sure.

“You want me to read it to you? The poem?” Tommy folded his arms across his chest.

Oliver laughed, “Yes, I want you to read your poem. I want to really listen this time.”

Tommy laughed and gently shoved Oliver, “Please. Are you auditioning for open mic night for the club you don’t own?”

“I’m serious,” Oliver replied, “I want to hear it again.”

Tommy’s face fell and he looked awkward and uncomfortable. “Ollie,” he sounded like he was about to cry, “please, don’t make me.”

“I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do, but I don’t understand. Why won’t you read it to me?” Oliver narrowed his eyes at him, “You read it in front of our whole class, why won’t you read it just to me?”

Tommy rocked on his heels and looked away, “You know why.”

Oliver bent down and started going through Tommy’s bookbag. If Tommy wasn’t going to read it to him, he needed to read it for himself, “Which notebook is it in?”

“Leave it,” Tommy pulled the bag from Oliver’s hands. “I don’t need to read it.”

The look of distress on Tommy’s face had Oliver back pedaling. He sat back on his heels and rested his hands on his knees and looked up at Tommy, “It’s all right. It’s silly. I just wanted to hear it again, but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to.”

Tommy turned away from Oliver and dropped his bag to the floor. He took several deep breaths before turning and facing his best friend. Oliver smiled in encouragement and Tommy nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, “I can’t do it if I’m looking at you- or if you’re looking at me either.”

“That’s okay, we’ll both close our eyes,” Oliver smiled and then closed his eyes. “I want to listen.”

Tommy took another deep breath. Oliver peeked and saw that Tommy had closed his eyes. His knuckles had gone white from twisting his fingers in his t-shirt. Oliver closed his eyes again and waited.

Tommy started softly and Oliver had to strain to hear his words, “My love’s eyes are the blue of my grandmother’s favorite table cloth, drying on the line in her garden; I lie on the grass and look through them and the world is revealed to me.”

Oliver was transported back in time to a picnic by the sea at Tommy’s grandparent’s house. They couldn’t have been more than five. He could see their mothers’ dresses blowing in the breeze as he and Tommy ran across the lawn. A blue tablecloth had hung on a clothesline, snapping in the breeze. They’d laid in its shade on the grass, side by side, pointing out shapes to each other in the clouds.

“My love’s hair is the color of summer wheat beneath a clear blue sky; It shines golden in the warmth of the sun and shimmers silver by the light of the moon.”

The sound of Tommy’s voice made Oliver open his eyes. A small smile was on Tommy’s lips and he swayed, ever so slightly, side to side. The index finger of his right hand touched his bottom lip and his smile got slightly bigger, “My love’s lips are soft and, when silent, I beg them to speak their truth into my flesh; Sometimes their words are soft and gentle and I float upon them, more often, they burn and scald and I cry out for their mercy.”

Oliver’s heart began to race as he watched Tommy transform in front of his eyes. His face had lost all traces of uncertainty and his words became more urgent, “My love’s fingers are strong and sure like a mother’s love that death did not end; They hold me together, stitch me whole, and heal me with caresses that leave no proof that they were ever there.”

Tommy clasped his hands to his chest and tears clung to his lashes before they slid down his cheeks. Oliver rose to his feet as Tommy started the last lines, “My love’s heart beats like rain on the boathouse roof, constant and steady as the clouds break and the winds howl;” Tommy’s voice broke and it was barely above a whisper, “It sings to me wherever it goes and my heart sings back. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Ssshh,” Oliver said softly. He touched his fingers to Tommy’s lips, “Don’t open your eyes.” Oliver pushed Tommy’s hair from his eyes and his tears fell faster. “Please don’t cry,” Oliver placed a gentle kiss to Tommy’s right eye and then to his left. He pressed a chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and licked a tear from the corner of his mouth. Tommy inhaled sharply but remained completely still with his eyes closed. Oliver took a step back and looked at the person he cared about more than anyone – more than his parents, than Thea or even Laurel. He knew that he was Tommy’s most important person too. Oliver reached behind his back and pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto his desk chair. He stepped back to Tommy and took his left hand and placed it flat against his chest over his heart, “It’s singing to you. Can you hear it?”

Tommy’s face crumpled and he began to cry. He nodded his head, “Yes.”

“Good,” Oliver kissed Tommy again, but it was no longer chaste. His tongue darted from between his lips and tasted Tommy’s bottom lip. He gently bit on Tommy’s lip before sucking it slowly into his mouth. Tommy’s fingers flexed against his chest and his tongue caressed Oliver’s top lip before his own top lip covered it and gently sucked on it. They pulled apart slightly and Oliver kissed him gently again before whispering, “Tommy.” Tommy opened his eyes and Oliver finally understood every line of the poem. He didn’t need to ask Tommy if the words were meant for him, he knew that they were.

“Ollie?” Tommy asked uncertainly.

Oliver stepped back and squeezed Tommy’s hand before he let go of it. Without taking his eyes from Tommy, he pushed his sweatpants down and stepped out of them. He stood before Tommy in his white underwear, uncaring that his erection was evident. Tommy swallowed heavily before reaching over his shoulder to remove his t-shirt. Once his shirt was discarded, Tommy’s hands hesitated on the waistband of his sweatpants for three seconds before he pushed them to the floor.  He moved to hide his underwear covered erection, but changed his mind. He dropped his hands to his sides and lifted his chin a little. Oliver smiled at Tommy’s ability to hold onto a little bit of defiance even after everything he’d been through.

“I want to burn my words into your flesh,” Oliver said as he approached Tommy, “I want my fingers to heal you with my touch.” Oliver’s fingertips ghosted along Tommy’s collarbone and down the center of his chest, “I want you to cry out for my mercy.” His lips landed softly against Tommy’s neck and Oliver felt him tremble but his arms remained rigid at his sides. “You can touch me - if you want to,” Oliver offered against his throat before sucking lightly on the spot where his neck and shoulder met.

Tommy’s hands flew to the back of Oliver’s head and buried his fingers in his hair, “Ollie.” He slid one hand down Oliver’s back and pulled him closer as his head fell back, giving Oliver better access to his throat. Their stomachs and erections rubbed against one another and Tommy gasped, “Fuck.”

Oliver lifted his head and gazed into Tommy’s eyes before he brushed their lips together. He wrapped his arms around Tommy and crushed their chests together before he captured Tommy’s lips with his own. He licked into Tommy’s mouth and Tommy’s hips jerked against his. Pleasure sparked down Oliver’s spine and he started walking Tommy backwards towards his bed. As soon as the backs of Tommy’s legs hit the mattress they broke their kiss. Tommy crawled backwards up towards the head of the bed, his eyes never leaving Oliver’s. He rested his head on a pillow and opened his legs to accommodate Oliver.

The sight of Tommy nearly naked in his bed was better than any fantasy, “God, you’re beautiful.” Oliver crawled towards Tommy and pressed a kiss right above the waistband of his underwear causing Tommy to gasp and his hips to jerk. He licked a stripe from the waistband of Tommy’s underpants to his navel and smiled at his friend’s whimper of pleasure. Oliver lowered his chest so it pressed against Tommy’s erection and he slid his body up Tommy’s until he was able to kiss Tommy’s lips again.

Tommy bent his left knee until it pressed beneath Oliver’s armpit and he was able to hook his heel beneath Oliver’s ass and helped to hold their erections tightly together. Oliver was afraid that it would be over way to soon if he continued to rock against Tommy. He was afraid that once they orgasmed the spell would be over and they would have to go back to the way things were – best friends who sometimes got each other off when they were drunk or high and never discussed it. Except, this time, neither of them were drunk or high. This was them, sucking on each other’s tongues and rubbing their dicks together. Oliver couldn’t think about what that meant. He just knew that when he was with Tommy things made more sense than they ever did with Laurel. Three months ago he’d thought he’d lost him forever. For thirty minutes he’d walked through life thinking Tommy was gone from the world. Oliver hadn’t liked what a world without Tommy’s friendship - laugh – or smile – or kisses – or moans would be.

Oliver broke their kiss and sat up on his knees. Tommy was breathless and his chest was rising and falling quickly. His lips were swollen, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkled like he’d just heard the funniest joke ever told. Oliver had never seen anything quite as beautiful. He knew that there were labels out there to describe what he was, what his need for Tommy made him, but they seemed inadequate.  He didn’t have the words for what he was feeling and even if he did, he was unsure he’d be able to use them. Oliver decided to let his lips say what he could not. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss above Tommy’s heart and then rested his ear above it. He closed his eyes as he listened to it sing to him. He’d come so close to having that song silenced forever. Oliver sat back up and his hands ran over Tommy’s chest as tears leaked from his eyes, “You’ll never leave me, right? No matter what happens or where we end up or who we become, it’s always going to be me and you. We won’t let anyone come between us. Even when we go to college, it’s always going to be us.”

“Ollie,” Tommy sat up and wiped Oliver’s tears with his fingers, “are you okay?”

“I thought you were dead. I thought he’d finally killed you and I’d let him. I should’ve protected you more,” Ollie rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy kissed Oliver’s chest. “I screwed up. I gave up. I was the one who almost kil…”

Oliver cut off Tommy’s words with a kiss. Three months later and he still couldn’t listen to Tommy admit that he’d tried to silence his own heart. Oliver lowered his forehead against Tommy’s, “All I could think about all day was the last two lines of your poem.” He began to recite, “My love’s heart beats like rain on the boathouse roof, constant and steady as the clouds break and the winds howl; It sings to me wherever it goes and my heart sings back.” Oliver ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair and tilted his head back so he could look into his eyes, “All I could think about was your poem and how your heart had stopped beating and how lost I’d be right now if the doctors hadn’t saved you.” He laid his hand over Tommy’s heart and could feel it beating for him and looked into his eyes, “I love you.”

“Oliver,” Tommy whispered as he rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around him. He guided Oliver to lay back and his fingers trailed across his chest. Tommy’s lips landed right above Oliver’s underwear and blazed a trail of lingering lips and tongue up to his heart as he recited his poem again into Oliver’s flesh. When his lips landed above Oliver’s heart he whispered something that Oliver couldn’t hear but he could hope. Tommy rested his chin on Oliver’s chest and smiled at him.

Oliver wanted to say the words again, but he couldn’t. Instead he pulled Tommy against him and captured his lips with his. He loved Tommy – was in love with Tommy – and he was prepared to sacrifice everything if it meant Tommy was his. He didn’t care what the world thought. He didn’t care if he angered his parents, or lost Laurel and his popularity. In that moment, all that mattered was that Tommy was his and he was Tommy’s. Oliver’s legs hooked behind Tommy’s and he urged his friend’s hips to move with his. Tommy’s tongue swirled around Oliver’s, making him moan. Oliver wanted to experience more than just coming in their underwear. He rolled them onto their sides, “Touch yourself.”

Tommy moved to pull away but Oliver held him close, “What?”

“I want you to touch yourself,” Oliver kissed Tommy quickly.

“Wh – wh – where?” Tommy stuttered.

Oliver arched a brow at him, “We’ll do it together.” Oliver held out his right hand palm up under Tommy’s mouth, “Spit and don’t be stingy. I like it wet.” Tommy leaned over Oliver’s hand and spit. He watched as Oliver took his hand and slipped it inside his underwear and wrapped it around his cock. “You feel so good,” Oliver said as he kissed Tommy. Even though it was his own hand pumping his cock, knowing that it was Tommy that was making it wet made it feel better than it otherwise would. Tommy poked him in the chest and Oliver stopped their kiss to find Tommy holding out his hand beneath his mouth. Oliver sucked on his tongue to build up his saliva and then spit into Tommy’s hand. He thrust into his own hand as he watched Tommy’s hand sink into his underwear.

Tommy’s eyes closed in pleasure and he moaned, “Ollie, fuck.”

“Keep your eyes opened,” Oliver demanded right before he kissed him. He locked his eyes on Tommy’s as their tongues licked into each other’s mouths and their hands pumped their cocks. His room was filled with the sound of their flesh slapping and their muffled cries of pleasure.

Tommy’s eyes went wide and looked a little desperate. Oliver knew his friend was as close to the edge as he was. He watched Tommy and imagined that it was his hand inside of his pants making him feel so out of control.

Tommy’s hand started pumping faster and he pulled away from Oliver’s lips, “I’m so close.”

“Let me see,” Oliver demanded as he sat up. Tommy hesitated for only a moment before he pulled himself free from his underwear and continued to pump himself. Oliver’s own hand stilled as he split his focus between watching Tommy’s face and him pulling and twisting his own long cock. He was panting with his exertion and making small noises at the back of his throat. “God, your fucking beautiful,” Oliver said again with amazement.

Tommy’s back bowed from the bed and he cried out, “Ollie,” as his cum shot out of him in thick white ropes and covered his chest and abs.

“You’re a porn star,” he said to Tommy as he continued to pump himself. Oliver leaned over and licked into Tommy’s mouth so he could swallow his moans. When Tommy’s hand stilled Oliver gentled his kiss and then smiled, ‘That was fucking hot.”

Tommy’s face lit up with a smile, “Show me.”

Oliver flopped onto his back and pushed his underwear over his hips, freeing his erection. He smiled as Tommy licked his lips as he took him in. He held out his hand for Tommy to spit, but then redirected it to Tommy’s abs. He ran his palm over his stomach and collected his still warm cum. He wrapped his hand around his cock and Tommy’s cum had his hand sliding over his length with the right amount of friction and wet. Oliver licked his lips as he looked into Tommy’s eyes, “You feel so good.”

“Fuck, Ollie, you’re making me hard again,” Tommy said with his eyes blown wide.

“Kiss me,” Oliver gasped. He needed to feel Tommy’s mouth on him and he’d settle for his lips because what he really wanted was Tommy’s mouth around his cock. Tommy complied with his request for a kiss and Oliver’s hand sped up and twisted over his head. He thrust into his hand and cried out, “Tommy.” His cum shot through his hand and covered his chest and abs. His orgasm kept going and he pumped his cock until nothing was left. Before he could catch his breath, Tommy’s mouth had returned to his and kissed him tenderly.

Tommy rested his head on Oliver’s pillow and smiled shyly, “I’ve never done that before.”

“I find it hard to believe that you’ve never jerked off before,” Oliver grinned.

“With someone else watching.” Tommy looked Oliver in the eyes, “Have you done this with Laurel?”

“I’ve watched her, but she’s never watched me.” Oliver shrugged, “She thinks it’s gross and messy.”

Tommy looked down at his chest and his semi-hard cock. “She’s kind of right about messy,” Tommy kissed Oliver, “but she’s wrong about gross. It’s sexy as fuck.”

Oliver rolled on top of Tommy, pressing their cum covered chests and stomachs together, “You have no idea how sexy you are.”

“Ollie,” Tommy gasped as his hips rolled against him. His eyes went wide when he realized that there was nothing between them.

“God, Tommy,” Oliver dropped his head against his best friend’s neck. He was desperate to rut against him. He could feel Tommy’s erection pressed between their bellies. Oliver instantly hardened in response. He lifted his head, “Okay?”

Tommy closed his eyes and turned his head. He took a deep breath and when he turned back to look at Oliver he smiled, “Yeah.”

Oliver crashed his mouth against Tommy’s and kissed him with abandon. He needed confirmation that Tommy was still alive. He reached between them and swiped through their combined cum and covered his cock with it. He maneuvered himself until his cock was pressed alongside Tommy’s. The sight of their erections and the feel of them rubbing together caused him to shiver. Tommy’s eyes were locked on the same sight and Oliver slowly thrust against his trembling friend. A moan escaped Tommy’s lips and Oliver lowered himself to capture it. His arms slid around Tommy’s back and he circled his hips, causing Tommy to gasp.

Oliver licked the roof of Tommy’s mouth as he slowly rocked their bodies together. He didn’t want fast and frantic, Oliver wanted the moment to last forever. He wanted to have Tommy safe in his arms in the warm cocoon of his bedroom where no one could ever touch them or define what they were to one another. Outside of his room there were expectations of who they were supposed to be. Sons of wealthy and powerful men who took what they wanted without care for who they hurt. Oliver and Tommy were expected to turn into men that were just like their fathers. There would be no room in their lives for what was between them now once they grew up and took their rightful places in their dads’ world. They still had ten months left before they started college and down the path to becoming the heirs to two multibillion dollar global enterprises and, if Tommy agreed, Oliver planned on making the most of what time remained to them. They would find a way to be together. The rest of the world could go to hell.

Tears spilled from his eyes and fell onto Tommy’s cheeks. Oliver didn’t feel embarrassed as he was overcome with his emotions. Tommy’s fingers threaded through his hair and tugged until Oliver broke their kiss. Oliver stilled his hips and steeled himself for his friend’s inquisitive gaze. Both of them were breathing in rapid pants and their skin glistened with sweat. Tommy’s damp hair had begun to curl and Oliver was unable to resist reaching out and wrapping a lock around his finger. They continued to stare at one another as their erections remained trapped between their bellies. The expression on Tommy’s face was one of wonder, confusion and hope. “Tommy,” Oliver said reverently against his kiss swollen lips.

Tommy inhaled sharply and then crushed his mouth against Oliver’s. He licked slowly into Oliver’s mouth and coiled their tongues together. The sensation of Tommy’s tongue tugging against his own set Oliver’s hips into motion. Tommy wrapped a leg around Oliver’s and began to thrust in response. Oliver fumbled around for Tommy’s hands and then laced their fingers together. He placed their joined hands above Tommy’s head and he began to use his knees to power his thrusts.

Tommy’s grip tightened around Oliver’s and he broke their kiss as he exposed his neck when his back arched from the bed, “Ollie.”

Oliver’s lips landed on the column of Tommy’s throat and was rewarded with soft whimpers of pleasure. He was making Tommy writhe in ecstasy and it made him feel powerful. He wanted everything that was Tommy’s. He wanted his friendship, his laughter, his body… his love. At the realization, the pleasure that had been slowly building at the base of his spine, exploded from him like a white-hot supernova. He grunted as his orgasm rippled through him. An almost desperate sound from Tommy set Oliver’s hips back into motion. Tommy hadn’t cum yet and Oliver needed him to feel the same way he did. Oliver captured Tommy’s lips in a sloppy kiss and began to swirl his hips in a tight circle. Tommy’s eyes went wide and he began to piston his hips off the bed and into Oliver’s. Watching Tommy take pleasure from his body and start to come undone filled Oliver with an emotion he wasn’t quite prepared for. He dropped his forehead to Tommy’s and stared into his eyes, “I love you.”

Tommy jerked beneath him and then went limp. Oliver collapsed on top of him and released their hands. He rolled them onto their side and tangled their legs together. Tommy tucked his head beneath Oliver’s chin and wrapped and arm around his back. Oliver could feel Tommy’s heart racing beneath his palm and he sighed with contentment. Tommy was alive and he wasn’t going to disappear on him.

Time seemed to stop as they laid with their limbs jumbled together as their heart rates slowed and bodies cooled. Tommy shivered and Oliver reached for his blanket. “Ow,” Tommy hissed as he grabbed Oliver’s arm to stop his movement. Tommy was wincing from where his chest hair was stuck to Oliver’s. They both looked at one another with wrinkled noses and then began to laugh. Oliver kissed the top of Tommy’s head before they carefully separated from their embrace.

“Come on, let’s go take a shower,” Oliver crawled from the bed and held out his hand, “we’re sticky.”

“Together?” Tommy asked nervously.

He wanted to erase the doubt from Tommy’s face. “We’ve already seen each other’s dicks,” Oliver grinned, “and I already know that you have a hairy ass from that hospital gown you wore.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but took Oliver’s hand. “We’re okay, right?” Tommy asked cautiously as he watched Oliver turn on the hot water.

Oliver kissed Tommy quickly, “Always.”

They awoke two hours later with the _Bourne Identity_ on repeat and Oliver’s head pillowed on Tommy’s chest. The sound of Oliver’s parents shouting had them both sitting up and putting some distance between them. Oliver turned off the television and walked softly to his bedroom door and opened it a crack. There was only one thing that ever made his mother yell at his father that way, his father must’ve taken up a new mistress again.

“How could you, Robert?” Moira said with tears in her voice. “She’s barely older than Oliver.”

“Moira,” Robert said angrily, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what I saw. Stop treating me like a fool,” Moira hissed.

“You’re behaving foolishly,” Robert’s shadow loomed large on the corridor wall.

“If you must be unfaithful, don’t seat your whore at the same table as us and humiliate me in front of our friends,” Moira’s voice cracked.

“Lower your voice or you’ll wake the children,” Robert cautioned.

“Now you’re worried about the children? It’s a little late for that,” Moira said bitterly. “Thea’s at a friend’s and Oliver already knows what you are, hell, he’s doing his best to follow in your footsteps. He treats Laurel with the same respect you show me and has probably bedded most of the girls in his class. He’s going to give his wife a lifetime of misery and humiliation too. Another Queen man who thinks he can do whatever he wants and to hell with the consequences and who he hurts.”

His parent’s bedroom door slammed and their voices became indistinct. Oliver sagged against his wall as the next few months played out in front of him. His father would disappear on overseas business trips, his mistress by his side. His mother would withdraw from him and Thea and keep herself busy with charitable engagements. His parent’s would be too distracted to pay attention to what he got up to at night and the chains that had bound him since Tommy’s hospitalization would finally be cut loose.

Tommy’s hand landed gently on Oliver’s chest, “She didn’t mean it.”

“Sure she did,” Oliver laughed, “because she’s right. You know better than most that I’ll say whatever I need to get who or what I want in bed. What’s a few lies in order to cum? One fuck is as good as any other.” The words burned his chest and throat like acid as he deliberately hurt his best friend. His mom was right. There was no escaping his fate – the future his mom painted was inevitable. He’d been lying to himself. He could never be with Tommy. It was a dream that could never be.

A cloud of realization passed over Tommy’s face and his hand dropped from Oliver’s chest. He took a step back and it took all of Oliver’s willpower not to pull him back. Tommy looked towards the open door, “I’m going to go to bed.”

“Yeah,” Oliver opened the door wider, “I think that would be a good idea.”

Tommy stepped past him with his features carefully schooled, “Night, Ollie.”

Tommy could always be counted on to pretend like nothing went on between them, including watching each other jerk off, some naked not so dry humping, and confessions of love. Tommy was always better at ‘forgetting’ their moments of weakness. Forgetting and pretending were two things that Oliver was never any good at. Oliver waited for Tommy’s door to close before he slipped into the hallway in search of a bottle of booze to drown himself in.

 

Felicity removed her glasses and placed them on the table. She pressed her napkin to her eyes and dabbed them. Oliver reached out and squeezed her leg, “Are you all right?”

She laughed over a sob, “I should be the one asking you two if you’re all right.” Felicity returned her napkin to her lap, “I don’t understand how two people who loved each other so much could’ve caused each other so much pain.” She reached out to both and they each took a hand, “I wish I could go back in time and tell the both of you to cut it out. To stop hurting each other. You were seventeen and this went on for five more years?”

Tommy looked at the ceiling in an attempt to keep his tears from falling, “I pretended that night never happened. Everything continued like normal. We never acknowledged it until the night Ollie asked to come home last year.”

“That was what you were shouting about?” she asked them.

“Some of it was about that night,” Tommy admitted. “Some of it was about the current state of our sex life.”

“Is that what Dr. Eckles wants to discuss?” Oliver asked. Tommy’s therapist was the only person outside of their family and close circle of friends who was aware of their status as a triad.

“She thinks that we have unresolved feelings about that night and it might be preventing us from achieving true intimacy. She thinks that maybe you are reluctant to have sex with me because you don’t trust me after what happened that night.” Tommy wiped his eyes, “She thinks that maybe you don’t fully believe that I love you.”

Oliver was instantly out of his chair and crossed their dining room. He knelt by Tommy’s side and pressed his boyfriend’s knuckles to his lips, “I know that you love me. I believe that you love me.” Oliver rested his cheek against Tommy’s palm, “I will do anything to make you believe that. I will go to therapy with you, if that’s what you need.”

Tommy smiled weakly, “Okay.”

Oliver rose to his feet but bent over Tommy. He wiped the tears from Tommy’s cheeks and kissed him chastely. He held Tommy’s hand to his chest, “It will always sing to you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Tommy rubbed Oliver’s scruff.

“Good,” Oliver stood up straight, “let’s eat.”

Oliver kissed the top of Felicity’s head as he walked by her. He returned to his seat and lifted his fork. He waited for Tommy to pick up a forkful of fish before Oliver did the same. He chewed thoughtfully, “Too much or too little dill?”

Tommy took another bite of the fish. He put his fork down, “The dill is perfect. Too much mustard.”

Tommy’s palate was right. It was the mustard that had tipped the balance of the flavors. He smiled at his boyfriend, “I guess I’ll keep at it until I get it right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are always welcomed and appreciated. Hearing from you is my favorite part of the day.
> 
> Prompt requests are encouraged.
> 
> You can also come say hi to me on tumblr. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com/


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